Thrill of the Hunt
by NightRaven713
Summary: Gibbs finds himself and another team member stranded in the wilderness, hunted by a killer bent on revenge.
1. Prologue

-1Yet another random inspiration. I need to stop having these. Actually, I need to stop dreaming, 'cause this one came from a dream. It's probably more that I need to stop dreaming after drinking large amounts of caffeine-filled drinks. But I do NOT need to stop drinking them. This Abby like her Caf-Pow. Feedback welcome… and wanted!

**Prologue**

Gibbs froze, tools still poised, and glanced up at the ceiling. Someone was in the house. And, considering it was one in the morning and he hadn't received any calls, he thought it was safe to assume it wasn't anyone he knew - no one would come to his house that late except for Abby, and though she did have a tendency to show up at odd hours, she always called if it was after midnight. He carefully placed the tools down on his worktable and pulled open the drawer in which he kept his gun.

As he crept towards the stairs, he found himself hoping it was just someone he knew. Abby had been coming to his house more frequently lately, to talk or work on the boat or just, as she said, so he wouldn't be alone all the time. Maybe she'd just forgotten to call this time. Or she'd called, but called his home phone and he hadn't heard it ring. And then for some reason she hadn't tried his cell and had just come over. Maybe she'd had a nightmare again and didn't want to be in her house alone. By this time he'd reached the living room, gazing around alertly. She'd be calling next time, he was sure, because she'd be getting quite a scare this time for surprising him.

The lights were off. But Abby wouldn't turn them on; she liked the dark. No one was in the living room, but maybe she'd gone to his room. _Instead of the basement? _She probably thought he was sleeping, not working on his boat. By this time he'd nearly convinced himself it must be her, and was making mental excuses for anything that might suggest otherwise. He headed for the stairs, still tense despite his rationalizations.

The hallway was dark, but a light shone from the half-open door of his bedroom. He sighed in relief, relaxing a bit and lowering the gun. "Abby?" he headed towards the room, feeling a bit dumb for getting so worked up. "Abbs, you really should call if you're gonna stop by this late. I don't have a problem with it, but you gave me quite a…"

He was cut off by strong arms encircling him from behind and a damp cloth pressed against his face. He struggled, recognizing the smell of chloroform and trying to hold his breath. But the grip was too strong and he'd been caught by surprise, and it wasn't long before his vision became hazy and he felt himself slipping into darkness, his last conscious thought being that he should have known - Abby _always_ called.


	2. Chapter 1

-1I actually had this done only mere hours after finishing the prologue! Go me! But, it helps that I already know the basic beginning of this story. After that, though (and even now), I'll say, suggestions welcome! Can't promise I'll do what's suggested, but hey, give me ideas and maybe I'll write faster! It's worth a shot, right? lol

**Chapter One**

Gibbs woke confused, cold, and with a pounding headache. It took a moment for memory to return, and he opened his eyes to find himself somewhere dark, cramped, and chilly. After a minute, he recognized the feel of movement and decided he must be in some sort of vehicle - probably the back of a truck or van - but from the close quarters and the feel of the material beneath him he could go beyond that to guess he was in some sort of metal box or crate. He gave himself a mental once-over and suddenly noticed the feel of cold metal around his right wrist. He lifted his arm a bit, blinking as he tried to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and made out the shape of a metal ring, connected to a chain - handcuffs. That wasn't too big of a shock, really. The shock was what he was handcuffed to. Or, rather, who.

Abby's still form lay beside him, still unconscious, the other cuff closed tightly around her left wrist. He guessed she'd been abducted from her house as well; even in the darkness he could make out that she was not dressed to be out of the house. He assumed the skeleton-printed tank top and hot pants were her PJ's when she was at home; every time she stayed at his house she had just borrowed his Marine shirt. As his eyes became accustomed to the darkness, confusion turned to concern as he noticed her condition: she was bruised and battered, apparently having put up a good fight against her assailant, and they hadn't gone as easy on her as they had on him.

"Abby?" he whispered, feeling for some reason as if he shouldn't speak loudly. Rolling onto his side, he put his hand on her shoulder and shook her lightly. "Abby, wake up."

She groaned slightly, stirred, cracked her eyes open. Memory kicked in then and she woke with a jolt, sitting up quickly only to whack her head on the top of the box and drop back with a yelp. "Ow!"

"Are you okay?" She groaned again, from pain this time, but nodded. Then it clicked that someone had asked that, and that that someone was right beside her and she didn't know who it was, and she jerked away again, this time bumping her spine rather firmly against the cold metal of the box, bringing forth another "Ow!"

"Abby, stop moving." And then she recognized the voice.

"Gibbs?"

"Yeah." He sounded relieved, and she knew she felt likewise that it was him and not some random person. "Are you okay?"

She blinked a few times, peering at him through the darkness. "Well, now my head hurts. And my back," she admitted a bit sheepishly. She tried to bring her hand up to rub her head, but found resistance behind the movement. Looking down at her arm, she found the cause to be the handcuffs linking her arm to Gibbs'. "Wow. This is…hinky."

Gibbs sighed. "Just a bit."

"A little kinky, too."

"Abby…"

"Well, it is!"

She heard Gibbs chuckle. "How hard did you hit your head, exactly?"

Choosing to ignore the question, she twisted her neck to look around the space they occupied. She knew it was pretty small, as she was pressed rather close against Gibbs. _There isn't even enough room to sit up,_ she thought ruefully, rubbing her head with her uncuffed hand. "Where are we?"

"I'm not exactly sure," Gibbs answered. "A box of some sort, and I think we're in a moving vehicle." He sighed, wishing he had more than that. He felt Abby shiver beside him. "Cold?"

"Just a little," she lied, trying to suppress another shiver. The metal was cold against her bare skin, and she wasn't exactly dressed warmly. That thought warmed her up a little as she blushed at the realization that she was dressed rather scantily and in such close quarters with her long-time friend and boss. "So, metal box in a moving vehicle. What's the plan?"

She felt more than saw Gibbs shrug. "You don't have any creative ideas?"

"You're the agent."

"You're the creative one."

She sighed slightly, thinking. "Well, stab in the dark here; maybe we should see if we can get out of the box?"

"Good a plan as any," Gibbs said with another shrug.

Nodding slightly, Abby decided to see how large the box was. If she stretched she could touch the bottom end with her toes. She reached her arms over her head to touch the top end, pulling Gibbs' arm along with her. The top was maybe six inches over her head, the bottom about an inch from her feet. "Maybe if we brace ourselves against the bottom end we can push this end open."

"It's a metal box, Abbs."

"Yeah, but it's gotta open somewhere." _Unless it's locked,_ she added silently, but she figured it wouldn't help to verbalize that. "It's worth a shot." At his go ahead she tried to slide down so that she could use the bottom end as a bracer. The movement attempt was surprisingly painful and she couldn't suppress a gasp.

"What's wrong?" Gibbs asked instantly, a note of concern obvious in his voice.

Abby took a deep breath to steady herself before answering. "Nothing. I'm good. Just sore." She felt Gibbs' eyes on her and explained. "Guess I'm a bit beat up. I didn't much like the idea of some random guy dragging me out of my bedroom. But, really, I'm okay." She didn't think he really believed her, but he didn't prod for more information.

"Okay. Let's try this, then," she said, feeling the cold metal of the box against her feet. She felt Gibbs shift beside her and the slight tug on her arm as he moved his arms to the other end of the box, and she moved with him, pushing with all her strength on the unbudging metal.

"I don't think this is working," he said after a minute of trying to get the box to give.

"Me either," she sighed.

He moved to press against the side of the box that was above them, pulling her arm along with his, but gave up after only a few seconds. "I'd say we're likely locked in here."

"So, what do we do?"

Gibbs sighed. "I guess… we wait." Abby matched his sigh. She could tell by his tone that he didn't like that plan any more than she did… but, it was the only choice they had.


	3. Chapter 2

-1And the hinkyness continues! Yes, this has to be one of my odder ideas. But hey, caffeine + dreams + me odd story ideas. So this is what we get. Hope everyone's intrigued with this one as I am!

**Chapter Two**

They had lapsed into thoughtful silence shortly after deciding they weren't going to be able to push their way out of the box, and after a long period of silent thought, Gibbs had reached the conclusion that he had no clue what was going on, or why. It wasn't hard for him to fathom why he might be there - plenty of people had reason to be unhappy with him - but he couldn't understand why Abby would be there too, or what was in store for them. Most confusing were the handcuffs; they weren't to restrain them, obviously, as they were cuffed to nothing but each other, and he couldn't think of any other purpose they might hold.

He was pulled from his musings by a jerk that sent the box sliding violently against the side of the vehicle and tumbled both occupants into a jumbled pile. He'd hardly untangled himself from Abby before the box was moving again, this slide ending in a short fall and jarring landing that brought a cry of pain from Abby's lips. A loud clank from outside preceded the top of the box swinging open, and Gibbs was pulled roughly to his feet, the handcuffs fourcing Abby to follow. It was dark outside, and very cold, and in the few seconds Gibbs had to glance around, there was nothing to be seen but trees. But his attention was not on the surroundings for long.

"Hm. See you're both awake, good." The voice was deep, tinted with menace, and vaguely familiar, though Gibbs couldn't place it. But the hands had released him, and his first thought was to get out of the box and run, if he could find a way to communicate that to Abby. But the next words stopped him. "You'll run faster if you're fully awake."

"What?" he asked, caught by surprise by this observation.

A slight laugh was his answer. "Not what you expected, Agent Gibbs? Well, before you take off, let me fill you in on the little game we're going to play."

Gibbs glared at the man, who had now circled around to stand in front of Abby and him. In the darkness he couldn't make out his features, but again there was something familiar about him. And he had known Gibbs' name. "What kind of game?"

Even through the dark he could see the wicked smile. "A bit of a hunting game. You see, we are in the midst of my hunting grounds. It is a varied terrain, containing forests, cliffs, and caves, to name a few. We're going to play a hunting game. And you are going to be the prey."

"Prey?" Abby sounded both confused and frightened.

The man ignored her. "You will have to stay together; this is the purpose of the handcuffs. You have until sunrise to go where you will, try to run, try to hide. When the sun comes up, I will come after you. That gives you about two hours until the hunt begins."

To say that Gibbs didn't like this idea would have been the world's biggest understatement, but he had no weapon and had Abby to worry about were the man to turn violent. Maybe, though, if he could keep him talking, he could figure out why this man seemed so naggingly familiar. "And if we don't want to play your game?"

The man shrugged and held up a handgun, letting both of them get a good look at it before leveling it straight at Abby. "Then I shoot her now and let you carry her. Or drag her, if you prefer."

Gibbs looked over at Abby, who stood still, trembling from cold and fear, apparently deciding under the threat of the gun to let Gibbs do the talking. "You say it's a game. A game has sides, winners. How do we win?"

The man lowered the gun, but made sure they could both see that he still had it ready to shoot. "You find your way out of my hunting grounds before I catch you. There is no time limit beyond how long you can manage to evade me." He chuckled slightly. "And your time is ticking." He gestured off to the side. "I would get moving, if I were you…" he held up the gun again, "before I lose my patience."

Gibbs took this as the cue that their question-and-answer session was over, and he still hadn't gotten a good enough look at their captor to identify him. But he didn't want to take the chance of his going through with the threat, for he still had his eyes on Abby and it would be too easy for him to aim and shoot before Gibbs could do anything. He stepped out of the box, Abby following, and looked around for which way to head - which way looked most likely to lead to an exit - but there were only trees, too thick to even see the stars overhead. Picking a direction at random, he started walking, knowing they'd want to change directions as soon as they were out of their captor's line of sight. But a thought suddenly struck him, and he turned.

"You have a truck," he pointed out, glancing at the small vehicle that had brought them all this way, "and we're on foot. Won't that give us an unfair handicap?" _Beyond being underdressed for the weather and handcuffed to each other_, he added silently.

The man chuckled and shook his head. "You should know, Agent Gibbs," he said, his tone derogatory, "One does not conduct such a hunt in a vehicle. Too easily evaded, that way. Why, you'd hear me coming long before I could reach you! No I will be on foot, as well. After all… the best hunts are the engaging ones."

Not having any response to give, Gibbs glanced at Abby and signed a quick 'move now, talk later.' She nodded and, motioning for him to lead, trailed behind him into the dark forest.


	4. Chapter 3

-1Okay, here's the next chapter! Heh, wonder how long it'll be until writer's block kicks in for this one, 'cause so far I've been getting these out pretty dang quick (for me, at least!). Oh well, enjoy it while it lasts, right? Thanks to all my reviewers! Oh, and a couple specific responses: shirik, the rest of the team will come in; it's just, it's only been a few hours, and it's still the middle of the night. They don't know anything's wrong yet. And louise (personal thanks; you were my first reviewer!!), I actually haven't read the book or seen the movie! Though I have heard of them. So that makes it even more ironic that I dreamed this idea; hope I can make this plot work as well as those did! Anyways, on to the story!

**Chapter Three**

"Okay," Gibbs announced after they'd been walking for a while. "I don't think we're being followed yet, and we're far enough away that he won't hear us."

Abby was silent for a long moment, trying to decide exactly what to say. She finally settled for a quiet, "So what do we do?"

"Well, we should change directions, so that we'll be harder to track. Probably try to circle around or something."

Abby hadn't wanted a 'where do we go' plan, she'd been more looking for a 'how do we get out of this' plan, but she figured she'd take what she could get. "Who is he, Gibbs?"

Gibbs shook his head. "I'm not sure. He seems familiar to me - honestly, probably someone I put in jail. Or he's related to someone I put in jail."

"He seemed kinda familiar to me, too," Abby admitted, "but not enough for me to be able to say who he is."

"Hm. Well, if we both know him, that narrows the field a bit." Gibbs sighed. "We'll figure it out."

Abby glanced over at him, but didn't say anything. Shivering in the chilly breeze, she moved to wrap her arms around herself, remembered the restraint on her left, and settled for the use of one arm only, though that alternative provided little warmth. It was mid-December, definitely winter, and she found herself wishing she didn't have that nice heavy comforter so she might have been more inclined to sleep in a warmer outfit. And shoes - shoes would be good. Actually, what would be good would be to be curled up on her couch in front of the fireplace, but that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

As if he was reading her mind, Gibbs pointed out, "It'll get warmer when the sun comes up." At her silence, he added, "And the team will know something's up when neither of us show up for work. They'll be looking for us."

"So will he," Abby pointed out quietly.

Gibbs stopped walking, making her stop as well, and looked her in the eyes. "We're going to get out of this, Abbs. I promise."

"You can't promise that, Gibbs. It's not like you control the future or anything." She softened the potentially biting words with a small smile, which he returned.

"Okay. How about this. I promise that I won't let anything happen to you and that I will do my best to get us safely out of this. That work better?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I can go with that."

Gibbs smiled and started walking again. Abby did a double-step to catch up.

"So," she said after a moment. "Any idea where we're going?"

"Right now? Just getting as far away from our starting point as possible. Once it gets closer to sunrise… we should probably look for terrain that would be difficult for him to cross or track us over. If we can distance ourselves far enough from him, we can look for the boundary without worrying too much about hiding."

Abby couldn't help but laugh a bit. "Military survival training proves its usefulness. But how do we know where the boundaries are? I mean, how can we know if we're out of the 'hunting grounds' or not, if he didn't even tell us how big the area is?"

"I'd assume there's some sort of actual boundary to it, like a fence, maybe. Or a natural border - a cliff or a river." He shrugged. "If nothing else, we keep going until we reach a town; I'm sure we'd be out of it by then." As a slight afterthought, he added, "If the team hasn't found us by then."

Abby resisted the urge to add 'Or he hasn't.' It didn't do any good to be a pessimist. She decided she'd try to think positively. But she did have the slight excuses of being in a really weird - and rather scary - situation, being _way_ too cold for comfort, and having had no caffeine that morning. Oh, and being handcuffed to her boss. That was not normal. Well, there was that one time where she'd handcuffed herself to him, but that had been for a _completely _different situation, and anyways…

"Abby?" Gibbs' voice snapped her out of her mental babbling. "You're zoning on me."

"Hm? Oh. Yeah. Sorry." She did a slight double-take. "Whoa. Did you just say 'zoning'?"

"Yeah… so?"

"You used slang correctly in a sentence," she said, giving him a surprised glance. "Now I'm just wondering if this is a weird dream."

"Haha, Abby." Gibbs shook his head, grinning. "I actually do know some slang terms. I've spent enough time with you and DiNozzo."

Abby returned the grin. "I'm impressed. Though, it would have been nice to find out this was a weird dream." Though, her dreams about Gibbs never included being kidnapped and made to run around in the woods… the handcuff thing, now… _okay, don't go there, Abby._ This was not the time to let her mind wander wildly.

Gibbs sighed slightly, glancing up through the tree branches. "Wish I had a watch."

"Wonder if he got us at night so we'd be least likely to have our cells and watches and stuff?" Abby pondered.

"That might have been part of it. And it's difficult to abduct two working adults during the day."

"Especially when one of them always carries a gun," Abby observed, and Gibbs chuckled a bit ruefully. The gun hadn't done him much good that night.

"I think it's getting lighter out," Abby said after a moment. "Though, warmer, not so much." She gazed up through the tree branches, barely able to make out a few sections of sky through the thick foliage. "Sun'll be up in a hour, at most, I'd guess."

"It'll be easier to see when the sun rises." _Focus on the positives._

"Yeah. And warmer." Abby knew she was hyping this temperature thing, but she was _really_ cold.

Gibbs chuckled. "Yeah, that too." He glanced over at her and slowed to a stop. "Hey. Come here."

"I am here."

He rolled his eyes. "I mean closer, Abby." She raised an eyebrow but stepped closer to him. With a little adjusting around the handcuffs, he wrapped his arm around her. "Better?"

She nodded. "Yeah." Better than she could verbalize. She reached to take his hand in hers - just so her arm wasn't just hanging there, of course - and settled for a simple, "Much."

Gibbs smiled at her and she smiled back, and they started walking once more.


	5. Chapter 4

-1Well, slight writer's block paused this one, but it was only because I'm going for an angle in this story that I've never done before. I'm kind of modeling this after the stories of my favourite mystery/thriller writers. It's just fun, a new thing for me. I'm enjoying it! And I have plans. ::evil grin:: Oh, yes, I have plans. Mwahahahaha! …Okay, over it. Too much caffeine today. Anyways. So, here, in true Preston and Childs fashion (I hope), is chapter four!

**Chapter Four**

_Five minutes._

Only five minutes until the official moment of sunrise. These moments held the greatest anticipation - the last moments before the game began. But this brought to light the question: which direction to start off going? He could track them the way they'd started, or he could head in the opposite direction. Agent Gibbs was ex-military. He would try to be clever, circle away. But, of course, tracking was more fun.

On top of that, there was the extra perk of the girl. He'd known she'd be the one he would take for a while now. It was obvious Agent Gibbs had a soft spot for the innocent, childlike scientist. That made her the obvious choice, but it had worked out even better than he'd planned. She was underdressed, obviously didn't have experience surviving in the wilderness, and was certain to be weaker than Gibbs. And certainly Gibbs would slow down for her, coddle her, try to keep her comfortable. She was the perfect handicap.

_Three minutes._

The cold weather was another perk. He hoped the report would prove true, that snow would fall. And soon. Snow made for easier tracking. And it would slow them even more as the girl got weaker in the cold. Until he gave them reason to speed up, that is.

But there was time. There was plenty of time. This was his game, and he would not lose it. The hunt would last. He would make it last, he would enjoy it, and when the prey could no longer run, he would finish them.

_One minute._

And he was so foolish! He thought he could win. Yes, Agent Gibbs always believed himself in control, in the lead. But he would find it to be another matter, now. The agent was no longer in charge. This was _his_ territory. And he would make him pay.

Oh, yes. Agent Gibbs would pay. But not merely with his life. No. The girl would be perfect for this, too. If Gibbs cared for her, then he could use that. Physical torment was nothing to what one could do with emotions, if you knew how to play them properly. And he did.

_Five… Four… Three… Two… One._

He grinned. The foxes had been sprung from their holes… now it was time to release the dogs. The hunt had begun.


	6. Chapter 5

-1Okay, this one may be a bit short, too, but it gets the point across, and I'm sure everyone wants to get back to Gibbs and Abby ASAP, so forgive the shortness. Reviews break down writer's block! Especially reviews/messages with suggestions… hint hint. Anything that may jumpstart my creativity. The second chapter I was supposed to have up is in the process of being written, and hopefully will be posted by tomorrow as promised. Now, on with the chapter!

**Chapter Five**

Ziva glanced once again over at Gibbs' empty desk, then back at Tony, who was focused on the game on his compute monitor. "You don't think it's… odd that we're both here before Gibbs?"

"I think he probably stayed up working on his boat, overslept, and gave us a good chance to goof of and get paid for it."

"But Gibbs is never late."

"Au contraire, my linguistically challenged friend," Tony responded. "He has on rare occasion been late, and I do my best to enjoy every minute when it happens. I don't worry about it until he's over an hour late, and that's only happened once."

"He's at forty-five minutes."

"Which gives us fifteen more."

Ziva's reply was cut off by the ding of the elevator and McGee's uncertain, "Hey, has anyone seen Abby?"

"She's not in her lab? I thought she spent the night again," Ziva answered, turning to face him as he stopped in front of her desk.

"No, Gibbs sent her home."

"Guess he figured three nights was long enough," Tony commented. Annoyed at his careless manner, Ziva turned to face him, only to find him facing away from the computer, looking instead at McGee, concern in his expression. "I haven't seen her come in. Could she have just gone to get a Caf-Pow or something?"

"I don't think so. Nothing was on - not the computer, not her music, not even the lights. It looks like she hasn't been there all morning," McGee replied.

Glancing at Ziva, Tony said, "Now _that's_ cause for concern… Abby's NEVER late without calling in."

"Could she be with Gibbs, maybe?" Ziva suggested, earning herself odd looks from Tony and McGee both. "Not like that! I mean, maybe they're somewhere together, and that's why they're both late."One way to find out." Tony reached for the phone. "I'll call Gibbs' cell; Ziva, try his home phone; McGee, you call Abby."

"Cell or home?" McGee asked, heading for his desk.

"Both, Probie! Pick one!"

Ziva counted the rings of the phone. _One… two… three…_ The fourth was cut off as the answering machine picked up. Ziva hesitated, decided against leaving a message, and hung up. A moment later Tony did the same.

"Got his voicemail."

"Answering machine."

They both looked at McGee, who was on his second call. He hung up a moment later. "She didn't pick up either."

"This is definitely not normal," Tony muttered thoughtfully. "I'd say we'd better check this out."

"How so?" McGee asked.

"Check their houses. See if they're there, if the cars are gone, if there's any signs of a struggle. What else?"

"Wait. Is there any reason to believe there would be? I mean…" Ziva began, but Tony cut her off.

"Gibbs has pissed off plenty of people during his career, Abby's found the evidence that's put dozens in jail, both of them are late - which is not common, or even occasional, for either of them - and neither are answering their phones. That's plenty of reason." He glanced at his watch. "And Gibbs has passed his hour limit."

Ziva nodded, feeling slightly impressed. For all Tony's silliness, he could be quite down-to-business when the situation called for it. "Whose house first?"

"We won't get into Abby's if she's not there. She locks it up tighter than Fort Knox." McGee muttered.

"She keeps a key behind the loose brick three to the left of the door." Ziva and McGee stared at Tony. "She told me and Gibbs that once in case or emergencies. Or if we came over and she was in her basement and didn't hear the doorbell."

"She never told me that!" McGee complained.

"She tells her friends, Probie, not her dates," Tony shot back. "But we should check Gibbs' house first. If they are together, it'd most likely be at his place. And if Gibbs is there, then he can help us find Abby." He grabbed his keys and headed for the elevator, Ziva and McGee trailing after him.


	7. Chapter 6

-1Well, here it is, chapter six, just barely in time! And I'm way behind in 'Won't Let Go', haven't even posted one. I should know better than to make promises that hinge on my inner muse, 'cause she's WAY too fickle. But I'm working on it! Anyways. I'm a little disappointed at the lack of reviews for chapter five; did anyone even read it? I hope I didn't lose my readers over my vacation. Reassure me; review this one! Tell me what you thought of both chapters. Please::puppy eyes::

**Chapter Six**

Gibbs glanced over at Abby as silence settled over them again. "Run out of songs?" She'd been singing - softly, so as not to give their location away - for the past hour. She'd cycled through every genre imaginable, from alternative rock to Christmas songs, and Gibbs had to admit she had the voice to cover all of them.

She nodded slightly. "All that's coming to mind at the moment is 'Phantom of the Opera', and that's a duet." She glanced at him hopefully, then looked a bit dejected when he shook his head.

"I'm not much of a singer, Abbs, even if I did know the song well enough."

"You don't know 'Phantom of the Opera'?"

Gibbs had to chuckle at her disbelieving look. "I've heard it, but no, I never memorized it."

"Oh, that one's a classic, though! And the play rocks. And then the movie - the newest one - is great! Though, nothing beats actually seeing the real thing at a theatre and all." She hummed a couple lines.

"Didn't expect you to be a Broadway fan, Abbs," Gibbs admitted.

"Oh, yeah. Not all of them, but the classics… _My Fair Lady, Phantom of the Opera, Les Miserables…_ Andrew Lloyd Webber is a genius, so anything he did…" She shrugged and fell silent for a moment before adding quietly, "I think my dad got me into those. We'd watch tapes of them together… he couldn't hear the music, of course, but he said he could feel it same as I could."

Gibbs nodded slightly. Abby rarely talked about her dad, and he'd never asked. But he knew enough to tell that they'd been quite close. Even such a tiny tidbit of personal information from her was precious, and Gibbs stored it away along with a mental note to buy _Phantom of the Opera_ for the next time she showed up at his house. _If we ever get back home,_ he added silently, watching Abby as she trotted along beside him and hummed a tune he didn't recognize, apparently making it up as she went. At least she seemed to be in a pretty good mood, considering the circumstances. But it still hadn't warmed up any, and he had a slight suspicion that the reason for her quick gait might be partially just an attempt to keep warm.

The forest had thinned out a good deal, so that the morning sky was now visible through the branches overhead and they could walk a good distance in a straight line without running into a tree. That was both a relief and a concern: they would be able to see through the trees for a good distance if anything was moving, but likewise there weren't many places for them to hide out if they needed to. Gibbs knew they had a pretty good head start, as they'd been keeping up a quick pace since they'd started, but he didn't fully trust this man not to pursue them with a vehicle or some other advantage.

It was hard to really consider the situation they were in. He found himself thinking about it as if he were watching it on TV, or reading the story in a book; it was happening to someone else, and he was merely analyzing it. He was pretty sure Abby was looking at it the same way, or else she was flatly refusing to think about it. She was for all appearances her normal perky self, on a brisk walk through the woods, alternating between singing and chatting and never seeming to demand or require an answer from him, and he found himself once again amazed by this girl who could skip happily along beside him despite obvious discomfort and an immensely stressful situation.

It was by no means the first time he'd been amazed by her ceaseless optimism. He knew he was far from knowing everything about her - in fact he felt he knew relatively little, though admittedly more than most - but he knew she had as much to be upset about as anyone, excuses to be bitter, cynical, depressed, and he knew she did have her moments. But she overcame them seemingly effortlessly, and the effects of even the worst and most painful times in her life didn't change her general bright outlook. With everything she'd seen, heard of, and even been through, she hadn't lost her innocence. He prayed she never would.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Her voice snapped him out of his ponderings. He looked up at her; she'd quickened her pace so that she was a foot or two ahead of him, her cuffed arm stretched out behind her as she looked at him over her shoulder.

"Do you even have a penny?" he asked, glancing over her outfit. She laughed and blushed slightly.

"No, but I'll write you an I.O.U."

"For a penny?"

"Pennies build up! Remember how many pennies get thrown away or put in jars each year? They all think that pennies are too tiny to worry about, but that's 3 million dollars right there!"

Gibbs chuckled. "I remember, Abbs. That's why I'd let you keep the penny."

She grinned. "But do I still get to hear your thoughts?"

He smiled and shrugged. "Just this and that. Little bit of everything."

"Fun." She looked around, then sighed slightly. "This forest is getting boring. I wish there was something other than trees."

Gibbs started to answer, but didn't get the chance. The leaf-covered ground gave no warning, just giving out the moment Abby stepped on the wrong spot. She had no chance to catch herself, giving a small yelp as she fell, pulling Gibbs to the ground after her, as he frantically struggled to grab hold of something, anything, to keep himself from being dragged into the hole too. His mind flashed on the normal use of such traps for hunters - he did not want to see if he was right when either he or Abby hit the bottom.


	8. Chapter 7

-1Okay, chapter seven up. I tried to make it longer than usual; don't think I quite managed it. My hardest thing with making chapters long is I get the full idea for the chapter out and feel like I'm rambling to get length, so I cut it off shorter… I think I need longer ideas. Heh. Oh, well. Oh, speaking of ideas, if anyone has any, let me know! I have plans, of course, but I'm open for things that'll help me fill in chapters (maybe make them longer?). Things you guys would like to see, and remember there's still the team back home to write about… and the hunter, too. So, review, please, and either tell me there or E-mail me if you've got something you'd like to see; I'll see if I can fit it in!

**Chapter Seven**

Somehow Gibbs managed to catch hold of a tree root, and a jerk on the cuffs followed by a yelp from Abby told him he'd caught her too, however painfully. He took a moment to catch his breath before calling down to her. "You okay, Abby?"

It took her a second to answer. "Yeah, I'm good, but you know, he really should have planned his holes better. Someone could fall right in; it's a total safety hazard."

A strained note in her voice stopped his sarcastic reply of 'That might be the point,' and he maneuvered to look down at her, still grasping the root. She was against the side of the pit, her free hand on the wall to support some of her weight in an attempt to relieve the pull on her other arm. A look beyond her confirmed his suspicions: he could just make out the short, sharpened spikes scattered along the bottom, intended to injure but able to kill. If he'd been just a few inches later… he didn't want to think about it. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, but I'll be better when I'm not dangling over the sticks of doom," she replied pointedly.

He chuckled slightly, relief washing over him. "Point taken. Hang on." He rearranged himself to get a better grip on the root - and a better look at it. Once he was sure he wasn't going to slip and it wasn't going to break, he took hold of the handcuff chain and started to pull Abby up. Her gasp of pain stopped him. "What's wrong?" He glanced down at her again.

"N-nothing," she answered. "Just, um, my arm's sore now." She sounded a bit uncertain, but he didn't see anything else that could be causing her pain… wait. She didn't have those scratches on her arms before. And they were fresh - still bleeding. And he suddenly realized that the purpose of her hand on the dirt wall was not to keep her weight off her cuffed arm, but to keep her off of the wall itself. She must have noticed his scrutinizing gaze, because she looked up at him pleadingly. "Just get me out of this hole fast, please?"

He complied, trying to find a balance between speed and gentleness as she tried her best to keep herself away from the wall. As soon as he'd pulled her up enough, she managed to scramble out the rest of the way, giving him a better view of how cut up she was. Blood ran down both her arms and legs, worst on her left side where she'd hit the wall first, but still notable on her right, some merely pricks and others long scrapes from being dragged along the side of the pit. There was a cut above her eye and another along her jaw line where her head had hit the dirt. Her clothes were a bit torn, but her bare skin had taken the brunt of the damage. Gibbs looked from her to the pit, leaning over it to try to discover what it was that had done this to her, and what he did discover only scared him more.

Barbed wire lined the entire inside of the pit, old and rusted from months of wear and weather. "God, Abby!" he exclaimed, looking from the pit to where she sat staring at her cut up arms, looking a bit shocked herself. His voice snapped her out of her daze, though, and she instantly tried to calm him.

"No, it's okay. Not that deep, just scratches."

"But… Abbs…" he looked back at the wire, still shocked that anyone could set up such a cruel trap. "This wire's rusted; we've gotta find a stream or something and clean them up, or they could get infected, or you could get tetanus, or…"

"Gibbs, it's okay! I've had all my shots." He turned, stared at her for a second, noticed the fear and pain in her eyes, and instantly felt guilty. He should be the one trying to comfort and calm her, and here he was freaking out and her trying to be the calm one.

"Abbs…" he said softly. Despite her supposed calm, he could see her trembling slightly.

"Y-you know how I said the forest was boring?" she asked after a moment, her voice a bit shaky.

"Yeah?"

She looked over at him. "I changed my mind. I'm good with the trees. I… I like the trees."

He reached out and gently pulled her into his arms; she came willingly. For a long moment he just held her, neither one of them able to think of anything to say. She finally broke the silence. "Think there are any more of those?"

He thought for a second. "If he set up one, it'd be safe to assume there are more. We'll have to be careful."

She nodded, then sighed slightly. "I'm sorry, Gibbs."

He looked down at her in surprise. "For what?"

"I just walked right into that. I should have been paying attention."

Gibbs drew back a bit to look her in the eyes. "Abby. There is no way you could have known that would be there. I didn't notice it either. It was hidden; it was made to be unnoticed until someone walked into it. It's not your fault at all."

She was quiet for a moment before saying softly, "Now I know what a deer feels like when it's being hunted. …And now I'm even more completely against hunting than I was before." She glanced up at him. "And I never was a fan of the idea."

He couldn't help but smile slightly. "I'm not too big on it either, I don't think," he agreed, reaching out to wipe the blood from the cut on her forehead away from her eyes. "Come on. Lets see if we can find a stream or something and get you cleaned up. Can you walk?"

She gave him a look. "Repeat. Just scratches."

He couldn't help it; he laughed. "Okay, okay, point taken." He stood, carefully pulling her to her feet with him, and led the way, carefully skirting the edge of the pit. There had to be a stream somewhere, or at least some sort of water source. The trick would be finding it… and getting around the fact that the water was sure to be rather cold. Gibbs sighed; risk an infection from the rusted wire, or chill her more with the cold water. Neither great options.

He glanced over his shoulder at the pit, suppressing a shudder. If there was any question that they were dealing with a madman, it was gone. What kind of person would set up something like that? The entire thing had been planned not to kill, but to injure, to torture. Glancing at Abby, who was walking a bit behind him, wincing slightly at every step, he had to admit it seemed to have worked. And he'd promised Abby he wouldn't let anything happen to her! Great job he'd done of that so far. He didn't know who he was more angry at, their hunter or himself.

He looked once more at Abby in time to see her once again wiping blood away from her eyes. That one seemed the worst of them, though a few of the cuts on her arm seemed relatively deep, as well. And head wounds did bleed a lot, even if they weren't too severe. He wished there was something he could use for bandages, but that was unlikely. Abby noticed him watching her and flashed him a smile, which he returned.

"So, we still don't know where we're going." It wasn't a question, and Gibbs knew it.

"Well, right now we're trying to locate a stream. After that… nope."

Abby sighed. "Think anyone's noticed we're missing yet?"

Gibbs nodded. "I'm sure they have. They've got to know something's wrong." He smiled slightly. "After all, you're never late."

She grinned. "You don't make a habit of it yourself."

"So they've definitely noticed something's wrong by now." He reached back to take her hand. "I'll bet they're already out looking for us."

"I hope so."

_So do I, _he added silently, but aloud said, "They are, Abbs."

They walked in silence for a while until a sound caught his attention. "Hear that, Abby?"

"Hear what?" she asked nervously, tensing slightly and stopping to listen.

"Running water. Means a stream or creek's nearby."

She visibly relaxed, shot him a glare, thumped him lightly on the shoulder with her free hand. "Don't do that, Gibbs! You scared me; I thought you heard someone coming or something!"

He chuckled slightly. "Sorry. Come on. Let's find that stream." He'd feel a lot better when he could get those scratches cleaned up and stop them bleeding. He headed in the direction of the sound, pulling Abby along behind him.


	9. Chapter 8

-1Okay, sorry this took so long. College is not conducive to free-time creativity. Though it might be conductive to a larger vocabulary. Anyways. This one's short, too, but these hunter ones probably will be short most of the time. Just a glimpse into the mind of a madman, I guess. I'll try to get more out soon, though I've got four stories I'm working on, and homework. But, hey, I'll do my best. So please review, let me know how I'm doing! Thanks!

**Chapter Eight**

_Well, well. _It appeared they'd found one of his traps. But they weren't there, so they had been able to walk away from it - or, at least, one of them must have been. Kneeling down, he examined the pit. The spikes were clean, but he could make out traces of crimson on the wire. So the girl had fallen in, and Gibbs had caught her before she hit the spikes - she wouldn't have been strong enough to catch him.

He stood, examined the ground around the pit carefully. _There_. That root was pulled out a bit. Agent Gibbs must have grabbed that for a handhold. _And there_, the red drops on the leaves told him, that was where the girl had sat after he'd pulled her out. He felt himself smile as he pictured the pain she'd felt, the anger Gibbs would have dealt with. This was better than her having reached the spikes. She wouldn't be severely handicapped yet, then, merely slowed a bit - and that would be more convenient both in the short run and in the long run.

So what would their next move be? Oh, of course. Agent Gibbs was ex-military. Gibbs' girl was hurt. So the agent would look for a stream. Well, he knew where the nearest stream was. But, that would be too easy. And, as they wouldn't know where it was, there was no guarantee they'd take the easiest course to it. So, what would his course of action be? There was no hurry. He had time.

He shifted his rifle to the other shoulder, glanced at the handgun in its holster. Both were loaded, and he had a set of hunting knives in his pack, along with an assortment of, well - other things. But there was no reason to think he'd be using those any time soon. No, he had time. This was working just the way he liked it - he was actually using his tracking skills. He'd been right: Gibbs made challenging prey.

He circled the pit one last time. They'd be easier to track, now, yes - the girl was bleeding. And if they'd gone that way, then they eventually would get close to the stream, likely Gibbs would find it from there. He smiled widely. _Perfect._ They were going just the right way… exactly like they were supposed to.


	10. Chapter 9

-1Well, this one took a while. Sorry about that. I've been working a lot on 'Won't Let Go', 'cause I hit on a good streak on writing that one. But I'll try to get back to this one, too. Heh, college and four stories all at once; try to be patient with me. Anyways, review please! Thanks.

**Chapter Nine**

Gibbs' house had been empty. It hadn't been a mess, and there were no signs of a struggle, but some things hadn't been right. The tools in the basement, for example. It looked like he'd walked out in the middle of working on his boat; nothing had been in its proper place. Tony knew Gibbs would never leave them that way on purpose. And the bed was untouched, like no one had slept in it the night before. That the car had still been in the driveway was the main hint that something wasn't right, though. And then when Ziva found the gun lying on the hallway floor, there was no question that something was definitely wrong.

Finding nothing useful, they'd bagged the gun and headed to Abby's house as Tony mentally attempted to explain all the abnormalities they'd found. Maybe he'd spent the night elsewhere. And he could have left in a hurry for some reason, left his tools out. The gun could have possibly been an oversight, and maybe someone had picked him up so he hadn't taken his own car. Maybe he'd spent the night at Abby's house. It was possible.

But the possibility disappeared when they reached her home. Her black hearse was parked conspicuously in the driveway. That wasn't too odd - she'd taken the bus before. Rarely, but… He reached for the brick hiding the spare key, but stopped halfway. Ziva had tried the door, and it swung open easily.

"That's not good," McGee pointed out nervously. "Abby's obsessive about locking that door."

Tony stepped past him into the house, stopping a few feet shy of the living room. "And… that's even worse."

The living room was a mess. The table lay on its side; the couch was at an odd angle from its usual spot. A bookshelf had been knocked over, scattering books everywhere. The candles that usually sat on the table lay broken on the floor; black glass candleholders had been shattered. Knick-knacks lay scattered about, some broken, some intact, but none where they should be. Tony bent, examining one of the books on the floor. _The Encyclopedia of Serial Killers._ "Hopefully not appropriate," he muttered, standing again.

"I think it's safe to say she did not just oversleep," Ziva stated, pulling on a pair of gloves before kneeling to pick up a cracked figurine of a wolf.

"Yeah, that's a good assumption," Tony responded sarcastically.

"What… what do we do?" McGee asked, looking a bit overwhelmed.

"We process the scene, Probie!" Tony snapped. "You take the living room. Ziva, kitchen and dining room. I'll go upstairs." He headed for the stairs, gazing around, trying to form a picture in his mind. She'd put up a fight in the living room. A bunched rug suggested she'd been dragged to the stairs, if not down them. The hallway was clear except for an end table that had also been knocked over, shattering a crimson vase and spilling water and both black and red roses onto the hardwood floor. He stepped carefully over the broken glass, pausing a moment to pick up one of the black roses. Away from the rest of the team he could let his emotions show a bit, but he wasn't even sure what to feel: worry, fear, shock, anger, all at the same time. He put the rose back among the broken crimson glass.

He reached her bedroom. The first thing he noticed was the dents on the front of the door. It didn't take long for that to add another picture to his mind: Abby trying to take shelter behind the thick wood, fighting with all her strength to hold it shut against her assailant's pounding attempts to get in. The picture was enhanced upon entering the room. She'd been chased around, caught, and had struggled; things had been knocked over; the bedcovers had been torn from the bed; even the heavy dresser lay on its side, drawers opened by the fall, clothes scattered everywhere. Yeah. Definitely anger was the big one here.

The hardest thing was deciding where to start, and what was important enough to actually collect. Honestly, he wanted to clean more than collect - Abby wouldn't like her house, her bedroom, being such a mess. And she probably wouldn't want them all probing through her stuff. In the end he ended up with mostly pictures, a couple collected items, and a swab of a red stain on the hallway floor that he _really_ hoped was not Abby's blood. Resisting the continued urge to clean up the room, he headed back down the stairs.

He found McGee just finishing up with the living room and Ziva watching him from the kitchen doorway. "What'd you find?" he asked her.

"Not much," she said, almost too calmly. "There was a broken cup on the kitchen floor - looks like tea, I took a sample of it, though - and, hm, oh yes… A rather large lizard on the dining room table. I decided _not_ to do anything with that."

"Oh, I forgot about her!" Tony exclaimed, heading for the dining room. As Ziva had said, a green lizard gazed up at him from the table. "That's Zephyr, Abby's pet iguana. Her habitat was knocked over in the living room. She must have gotten out."

"Abby has a pet… lizard," Ziva stated, sounding like she wasn't sure whether to be surprised or not.

"Yeah. And for the record, she's not that big. Iguanas can get a lot bigger, but she's still young."

As a confirmation, McGee chose that moment to walk in. "Oh, that's where Zephyr is!" He sounded a bit relieved. "Abby'd be upset if she were lost or something. I set her habitat back up; nothing's broken."

Tony sighed and walked over to the table, lifting the iguana into his arms and heading for its habitat. It was nice to focus on this and not think about the reason they were there, but unfortunately they couldn't do that for long. "Find anything, Probie?"

"I don't think so. I mean, other than a lot of broken stuff. Abby's not going to be happy about how many of her statuettes got broken." He fidgeted slightly, obviously feeling the same way Tony did about the situation.

"We'd better call the director," Ziva suggested, as if she'd just realized that maybe they should have done so earlier. "We'll need to figure out who would have a reason to go after Abby."

"And Gibbs," Tony reminded her as he placed Zephyr into her habitat and watching as she scurried into a little rock tunnel to hide, her tail poking out one end. "They're both missing, and there's enough evidence to say they've both likely been abducted."

"Too coincidental to not be related," Ziva offered. "At least we can predict that they're together."

Tony sighed again. This was not a promising situation, but that was one reassuring thought. Gibbs would keep Abby safe. And they were both intelligent, and resourceful. And now he was on this case. He circled the iguana's cage and knelt down to peer into to the tunnel, where he could just make out the lizard's outline. Zephyr had probably seen the whole thing. "If only you could talk," he muttered. He stood again, headed for the door. "Come on. We need to get what we have to a lab, let the director know what's going on." McGee and Ziva followed along behind him. "We're going to find them." He just hoped they weren't already too late.


End file.
